Child Soldier Twelve Poem by Johan Jacobs

I am twelve years old
my AK¹ rifle too heavy to carry
in the bushes where I fight
for the war lords of Renamo
against Frelimo in the
Tête province of Mozambique!

They dragged me away from my kraal²
my parents stood silent without tears
to let go... or be killed.

I serve the militia in
battle and entertainment
and sex with women and men
with lots of beer and...
now and then a plate of food
an innocent child!

I lay landmines around the fields
cut off women’s’ breasts
and shoot children in the head
while I become a man

South Africa! South Africa
your milk and honey calls
while I vomit on the war lords
and their loathsome muck...
I flee to your breasts of milk!

Please boss I seek a peace job³
to buy grub... to survive
here where I stand on the
corner of the street
day in and day out!

Thank you boss for work and food
to write and speak your language...
today I am a man
without a rifle
and filled with pride!

I am now called Daniël*

Copyright©JohanJ

1. AK: AK47 7,62mm assault rifle of Russian origin.
2. Kraal: African word for a complex of huts.
3. Peace job: African word for temporary work.

*He changed his name and works now as a machine operator for a garden services in Centurion, South Africa. The UN are doing their best to stop the misuse of children as soldiers. See the following Web page for more information: www.childsoldiersglobalreport.org.